<p>The lock-downs and shut-downs in many places recently days brought me back memories of a similar situation when I was working as Superintendent of Police of a district decades ago. </p>.<p>A clash between two communities during the celebration of a festival in a village had snowballed into a conflagration and had enveloped the entire district. Since a small town was the epicentre of the problem, I rushed there with the District Magistrate and held discussions with community leaders of both sides and appealed for peace. When this didn’t bring the desired result, we promulgated prohibitory orders, deployed contingents of paramilitary police and held flag marches. Despite doing everything in the book to bring the situation under control, peace didn’t return. Defying the orders, miscreants would come on the roads and set fire to the houses of members of rival community in true guerrilla-style.</p>.<p>I was worried and called an experienced Deputy Superintendent of Police and sought his advice. He said that drastic times call for drastic measures and suggested the imposition of curfew. When no incident occurred for a day, we relaxed the curfew for a few hours so that people could get essential commodities. However, during the relaxation, violence once again broke out and we had to repeatedly use force. I became worried because a curfew was the last weapon in our arsenal and if it failed there was no other solution in sight. I conferred with the Dy SP again. He said that he had a solution. I gave him a go-ahead provided it was not against law.</p>.<p>Two days later, leaders of both communities sought an urgent meeting with me and promised that they would ensure peace if I withdrew the curfew forthwith. Though surprised, I agreed to their request and withdrew the curfew. When normalcy returned, I called the Dy SP and asked him how he had achieved the near-impossible. </p>.<p>He smiled and said, “It was simple. I knew very few houses in this town have toilets, and the citizens have to go to the nearby fields before sunrise. I deployed my men outside all such fields and ordered them to shoo away anyone who came there by threat of arrest. When some ‘bold’ mischief-mongers defied us and squatted in open places, they were treated to resounding lathi whacks on their bare bottoms and made to run leaving their lungies and lotas behind. I strictly enforced the curfew orders in letter and spirit and did nothing more. What a genius, I thought! </p>
<p>The lock-downs and shut-downs in many places recently days brought me back memories of a similar situation when I was working as Superintendent of Police of a district decades ago. </p>.<p>A clash between two communities during the celebration of a festival in a village had snowballed into a conflagration and had enveloped the entire district. Since a small town was the epicentre of the problem, I rushed there with the District Magistrate and held discussions with community leaders of both sides and appealed for peace. When this didn’t bring the desired result, we promulgated prohibitory orders, deployed contingents of paramilitary police and held flag marches. Despite doing everything in the book to bring the situation under control, peace didn’t return. Defying the orders, miscreants would come on the roads and set fire to the houses of members of rival community in true guerrilla-style.</p>.<p>I was worried and called an experienced Deputy Superintendent of Police and sought his advice. He said that drastic times call for drastic measures and suggested the imposition of curfew. When no incident occurred for a day, we relaxed the curfew for a few hours so that people could get essential commodities. However, during the relaxation, violence once again broke out and we had to repeatedly use force. I became worried because a curfew was the last weapon in our arsenal and if it failed there was no other solution in sight. I conferred with the Dy SP again. He said that he had a solution. I gave him a go-ahead provided it was not against law.</p>.<p>Two days later, leaders of both communities sought an urgent meeting with me and promised that they would ensure peace if I withdrew the curfew forthwith. Though surprised, I agreed to their request and withdrew the curfew. When normalcy returned, I called the Dy SP and asked him how he had achieved the near-impossible. </p>.<p>He smiled and said, “It was simple. I knew very few houses in this town have toilets, and the citizens have to go to the nearby fields before sunrise. I deployed my men outside all such fields and ordered them to shoo away anyone who came there by threat of arrest. When some ‘bold’ mischief-mongers defied us and squatted in open places, they were treated to resounding lathi whacks on their bare bottoms and made to run leaving their lungies and lotas behind. I strictly enforced the curfew orders in letter and spirit and did nothing more. What a genius, I thought! </p>